


california rain

by haylor



Category: One Direction (Band), Taylor Swift (Musician)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Lots of Angst, So yeah, kind of a future fic as well i guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-11
Updated: 2017-12-11
Packaged: 2019-02-13 11:29:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12983118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haylor/pseuds/haylor
Summary: he lets her down. she gives him up.





	california rain

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by and loosely based off california rain by betty who.

He remembers. Not just fleetingly, but vividly; he remembers how her lips felt against his, and how her blue eyes were prettier than any sky he’d ever seen.

And oh, he had seen many.

Nursing a cup of cold tea, he stared at his phone as he waited for something that he knew was never coming. She was gone, and it was his fault.

 

* * *

 

She sees him in her dreams. A pair of strong hands gripping her hips for dear life as she hurriedly unbuckles his belt, aching to feel him inside of her.

(Having sexual dreams about your ex probably wasn’t the best thing, but she wasn’t planning on telling her therapist that anytime soon.)

When she wakes up at home with mascara running down her cheeks, giving her the appearance of a drowned raccoon, her mother knows exactly why. Though not the little girl she used to be, Taylor doesn’t protest when Andrea holds her close and instead lets everything loose for the first time.

Taylor hopes that somewhere, in another universe, maybe, that that little girl is okay.

 

* * *

 

He doesn’t call her on her birthday.

She doesn’t realize until it’s nearly midnight, and instead of being sad about it, she just brushes off any questions and goes back to her party.

 _It’s not him_ , she realizes that night as she grinds her hips into a stranger who’s name she hasn’t bothered to ask for yet.

**He’s not him.**

 

* * *

 

“I miss you,” he’s drunkenly saying, his voice slurred but nonetheless recognizable.

Taylor’s been roused awake, her hair a mess as she sits up slowly, pressing the phone to her ear.

“Where are you?” She’s asking him before her mind can tell her that it’s a bad idea.

“Outside your apartment.”

How he got here, drunk and all, is a mystery to her.

She lets him up anyway, and leads him to the couch so he can sleep off the one too many drinks he’s had.

“No. Bed.” Even drunk, Harry is insistent, and Taylor sighs and leads him to her bedroom.

 

* * *

 

She wakes up before him, and her heart hurts when she sees him sleeping soundly, hugging her pillow as if it was a stuffed animal. Or a person, maybe.

He’s beautiful even in his sleep, but he’s so unattainable, and at this point, Taylor has learned the hard way that when she plays with fire, she’s only going to get _**burned**_.

 

* * *

 

He’s gone by the time she wakes up again. In fact, the only proof of him being there the night before was the fact that the other side of her bed was warmer than usual — and that he left a note.

_**“Thanks, T.** _

_**— H.”** _

He had scribbled it out on one of her many napkins and left it on her nightstand, and Taylor missed him already.

 

* * *

 

He keeps up with her. Follows her on Instagram and Twitter, though he never lets himself slip up and accidentally like one of her pictures or tweets.

(Though, on his 22nd birthday, he tweets lyrics from one of her songs — but only because he felt like it was okay, and customary.)

 

* * *

 

She moves on. It’s with Calvin Harris, who he had heard bad things about from just about everyone, and he prays that he doesn’t hurt her.

 

* * *

 

She keeps up with him, but ultimately, she gives up because Adam gets pissed whenever Harry’s mentioned to her, and Taylor tells herself that it’s okay. She’s okay. She doesn’t need to keep track of his every move anymore.

She and Harry used to be magnetic, but now they were just a memory.

 

* * *

 

 _She’s over him_ , she realizes a few months later, Joe fast asleep next to her.

 

* * *

 

Harry gets an invite to her wedding.

He also pretends that he doesn’t see it.

Pretends that he never got it.

Pretends that he doesn’t drive past the church in London where they were getting married the day of, his green eyes hoping that he would see her outside on that familiar bench, waiting for him.

Harry pretends that he doesn’t see the pictures plastered on every magazine and newspaper cover for the next week or so, his beanie pulled low as he walks out of the supermarket, groceries forgotten.

 

* * *

 

“Why?”

It’s been five years, and he knows that she’s happy, but he also knows that he needs to know. She’s just as beautiful as ever, her blue eyes bright and her curls reaching her shoulders — he had begged her to wear it like that so many years ago, but Taylor had only looked down, blushing and said that they were her biggest insecurity.

“ _Well, I think you’re beautiful._ ” He had said then, not caring that all eyes in the little restaurant they were currently in were now on them.

* * *

 

“You let me down so, **so** many times, Harry. You know that.” Her voice is even and honest, and he knows that it’s probably going to rain soon — but fuck it, he needs to know.

“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” He means it now, because he’s not the boy or even the man he was back then, but he also knows that it’s too late.

That **he’s** too late.

“It’s okay.” She’s looking at him now, and he’s surprised to see that her eyes are brimming with tears — there’s nothing more he wants than to hold her right now, but he can’t do that. Not anymore.

“I forgive you, and I’m sorry too. Can you hold on a moment?” Harry simply nods and watches as she goes inside, thinking that maybe she wasn’t coming back — but Taylor comes out with something in her hand, and Harry’s stomach turns as he realizes what she’s holding. She places the paper airplane necklace from so long ago into his hand, watching as he pockets it carefully.

“You kept it.” It’s a statement, not a question, and Taylor simply nods.

“Of course I did. It was yours, after all.”

To be honest, he thought that she had thrown it away after the Out of the Woods music video, but here she was, years later, _still_ proving him wrong.

“Be good to yourself, okay?” Her voice is lower now, and Harry knows that this is where everything ends.

“You too.” They shake hands a bit awkwardly, but for Harry, it feels like a weight is being lifted off of his shoulders, one that he hadn’t known he was holding.

* * *

 

Taylor goes inside then, only to be greeted by the worried face of Joe.

“It’s okay. _I’m okay._ ”

And for the first time in ten years, she is.


End file.
